


Mr. Brightside

by VioletHellfire



Category: Game Grumps, Starbomb (Band), egobang - Fandom
Genre: Bittersweet, Confused/unrequited emotions, M/M, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6721609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHellfire/pseuds/VioletHellfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Never let go of that fiery sadness called desire." </p><p>-Patti Smith</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Brightside

"Fucking Dan..."

It wouldn't be the first time he said it tonight, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Arin muttered these words, mostly to himself, as he raised his already sweaty glass to his lips once again, slightly wincing at the tainted cola inside. It had been hours since this whole thing started, and he knew from the get-go that it wasn't going to do him any good. Yet, here he was, staring down his fourth Jack and Coke of the night, still just as tired and conflicted as he was when he got there, part of him wanting to fight, part of him wanting to just crumple under his own weight.

He wiped the condensation from his hand off on the sweats he wore, the moisture bleeding right through to his thigh, and temporarily staining them. From where he sat, the surrounding bar before him bloomed into life, people talking to his left, flippant chatter to his right, as the happy din of guest and patron alike buzzed about the room in a near palatable energy. Yet, he felt so misaligned with everything...what was he even _doing_ here?

He glared, straight in front of him, hard.

His eyes were fixated ahead, barely trying with any social formalities. They had been, for almost the whole night, and the more he drank, the more he found it harder to look away. He was staring, he knew, but he just simply didn't care at this point. Nobody seemed to mind him anyway.

Dan.

Fucking Dan.

It was his fault he was here. He practically _begged_ Arin to come out with him tonight. And, like the giving idiot he was, he agreed. Even when he had said the words, he didn't know why he didn't try to counter him more, or at the very least try to pick a less awkward place for them to be for the night. He didn't socialize very much, let alone with new people, and he certainly didn't drink...right?

He snorted, resting his forehead in his free hand.

At the bar, Dan was laughing. He tossed his overgrown hair out of his eyes as he slid a little closer to the girl in front of him, a bit of beer haze evident on his face. His cheeks were pinked, his eyes were glassy and full of life, and his mouth was twisted into a lopsided smile, with his morning stuble just barely coming through. He looked so vibrant and alive, so in his element.

It killed Arin to see him like this. It killed him to see Dan so lit up, so free, so... _happy_ without him. All those moments they had when they barely knew each other. All those moments they had on the couch together, years later. What did any of it mean?

He took another long drink, eyes forward. He remembered the first time he had those lingering, questioning thoughts. Thoughts that sometimes haunted him into the late hours of the night. Initially, he just shrugged them off, as he did with most random things that fluttered in and out of his mind at any given moment. They usually didn't last long anyway, and didn't normally have any contextual rhyme or reason to them, just...little flashes of strange, fleeting happiness that he'd later chalk up to one thing or another.Was it stress? Maybe. Was it just remnants from being in such close quarters with the man for so long? Probably. Was it something he even understood? Absolutely not.

He had never even thought about him in those terms before, but after a particularly long session one Saturday, wrapped up in blankets and riding the Dayquil high that came whenever he'd overlap doses with his other medicines, Dan blurred the lines between them, with just a small peck to his cheek. It took Arin by surprise, his face falling flat before he could really process what had just happened. His affections had landed near the corner of Arin's mouth, obviously meant for the side of his face that was there just seconds before, when he was facing the screen, debating on whether or not he was going to break another controller that day. At the time, he brushed it away as nothing note worthy, as his face started to fill with a confusing mix of tingle and embarrassment. Dan was friendly, and he was just being a little bit more friendly today, seeing as how things had played out and how heated he was getting toward the end of it all. It was a gesture of goodwill. It was encouragement. It was only a...kiss.

The girl at the bar stepped closer to Dan, and put an arm on his chest, the other barely brushing against his, coral colored nails popping against his blue shirt. For a moment, it looked like she was leaning in, readying herself with lidded eyes and a dare on her lips before turning her head to the side, in a show of faux coy coquettishness. His smile spread even wider, as he looked at her with a spark of something else lingering just on the corners of his face.

He was taking her home tonight, Arin knew. Anyone could see that. He had known since the moment she walked up to him, with a swing in her step and a pair of heels that just begged to be hanging over someones shoulders. And he hated it. He hated all of it.

His stomach twisted briefly as he attempted to bore a hole into the back of her head, hoping that with whatever he could, she'd change her mind, or maybe Dan might, and that they could leave together and forget that this part of the night had even happened. It was a bad idea, a stupid idea, one that he'd try to remember next time he was being dragged out the front door.

If there even was a next time. He didn't know how much he could take scenes like these, and he didn't know why he felt so bitter and puerile. It wasn't anything Dan was doing, yet, here he sat, with a nagging sense of something within him, rolling, just bubbling under the surface, an angry sort of stew that made him feel sick in more ways than one. Something nearly vile, and vitriolic, something threaded with confusion, something he felt was out of his control. It had to be her...something about her. Arin swallowed the last of his glass, as if to punctuate his thought.

He watched as she nearly danced away from where she was daintily perched just moments before, hands sliding over fabric as she strode over to the ladies' room. Dan followed her every movement, like a lost puppy, that same stupid grin giving away more than he probably wanted to tell. He glanced over at Arin, once she was behind the thick oak door, and flashed him a giddy thumbs-up.

Arin cracked a smile, and raised his empty glass. Even if he didn't mean it, and even if it nearly suffocated him to do so, he'd be there for him. He'd be his support, his go-to, his best of friends. Because that's what they were, right? And that's what they would always be. Friends. Best of friends.

He cleared his throat, readjusting the lump of bile that threatened to come tumbling out.

Dan.

Fucking... _Dan_.

He just wanted to go home, and curl up on his couch, melting into the leather until he couldn't feel anything but the blank pressure of worn springs and batting. He knew he'd pay for what he was forcing down his throat tonight, and he knew Suzie would probably give him shit for it, but right now, it didn't matter. Right now, he just needed somewhere, anywhere, to hang the disorienting mix of sentiment and apathy brewing just below the surface. And if that meant getting a bit sloppy and passing out into a dreamless fog later, then, so be it.

From where he sat, beneath the lull of the crowd, he could hear the girl's voice ring with a bubbling tone of allure and pleasure, sex dripping just on the tip of her tongue. Dan echoed her enthusiasm in every way, nose brushing past her hair, whispering silent promises that made her curl up incrementally closer as he spoke, pliant mouth parting by the second.

Arin couldn't look anymore. He just couldn't.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. Anything to give himself a distraction, even if only for a second. The bar would be open for another hour or two, if he was remembering the sign out front correctly. He quietly tossed around the idea of blacking out entirely as he gazed into his hollowed cup, and letting the charity of strangers dictate whether or not he actually made it home tonight. He couldn't, though. He was, as much as it didn't seem, responsible, and knew better. With a few lazy swipes and taps, he brought up the Uber app, knowing full well his ride would be unavailable for the rest of the night.

He sighed, deep and heavy. How did he end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time out writing for these two, so please be kind to me. :)
> 
> Also, apologies if any of this comes out oddly, as I am working off of my phone at the moment. 
> 
> Title of this work, as well as the sole motivation behind it, comes from The Killers song of the same name. Go give it a listen.


End file.
